


Candlelight, Interrupted

by bookstvnerdlove



Series: A Story of Us [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookstvnerdlove/pseuds/bookstvnerdlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a storm brewing, Hook and Emma find themselves trapped at Granny's with the power out. How will they pass the time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candlelight, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Post Finale, except we're pretending that the whole Marian business either didn't happen or has already been resolved. Because I don't want to include OQ angst, or Regina/Emma tension. Also, I started writing this before the finale aired, and I don't feel like changing it because reasons. Originally written for tumblr CS-Trope-A-Thon: trapped in a storm/snowed in. Also includes trope: interrupted sexytimes. May possibly be continued...

The storm is right on top of them, lightening flashing and thunder booming almost immediately afterwards. After several minutes of the lights flickering in her room at Granny's, the power completely fails and she groans as she digs around her luggage for a flashlight. All at once, there are 30 messages on her phone from various Storybrooke residents and all she wants to do is call David to give the sheriff's position back to him.

Two of the texts make her smile, though. Henry is staying the night with Regina and Robin over at her house and he sent her a photo of the a pillow fort he built for Roland. Regina also sent a message to her saying that all was well at their house and that she had already called the power company and to just sit tight. It makes Emma smile to think of how seamlessly this joint parenting feels, especially after how rocky it was at the beginning.

She starts making her way through the rest of the messages, ensuring that everybody else is safe and sound before she can relax, when there is a banging at her door, and a bellowing, "Swan!"

She rolls her eyes, even though he isn't in the room to see her, because the idiot keeps forgetting to bring his key when he wanders down to Granny's kitchen in the middle of the night. (Which reminds her, she needs to leave the woman a little extra money in the morning to cover whatever snack he's found for himself tonight.)

With Henry at Regina's for the week, and her new apartment ready for move-in on Monday, they consolidated to one room. (She ignores the knowing looks from Granny and the winks from Ruby. And she gives them enough money so that they don't tell David or Mary Margaret. Mom and Dad.)

She pulls the door open and his eyes are frantic as he stalks into her (their) room. "What the bloody hell is going on here? Why is everything dark?"

She can hear the confusion in his voice, and she remembers that as adaptable as he is, he may never have questioned how, exactly, the lights in her world actually work.

"The power is out. No lights for a while," she says as she shines the flashlight in his direction, "We need to find more of these. Or some candles. I bet Granny has some lying around here."

She starts digging around the room until she finds a box labeled "Emergency" in the closet. Sure enough, there are some candles and matches in the box and soon the room is engulfed in a dim, glowing, amber light.

He likes to watch Emma while she works, walking around the room, placing candles where they will be most effective, typing words into her phone. (She recently showed him how the phone works, sending and receiving missives from friends, family, townspeople. He's yet to try to use it though. He finds all of the comforts of this realm endlessly fascinating, as fascinating as he finds Emma's capable movements and economy of words, speaking with her glances and touches, her actions and her smiles.)

He knows that he might come across (to some) lazy and unhelpful, but he can't help how he gets caught up in the simple pleasure of enjoying her. Emma.

When her tasks are finally complete, she joins him on the bed and surveys the room. Her boots next to his on the floor, his jacket draped on the chair, covering hers. She sighs softly as his arm pulls her body into his, closing the space between them, smoothly. He loves the way her body responds to him, pure instinct, curving and molding perfectly into his.

She's wearing one of her thin white tops again, arms exposed, hints of red peeking through from underneath. He smiles, remembering how the shape of her breasts looked in the corset, back in the Enchanted Forest, and how even now that he has seen all of her and touched her silky skin, it only takes the barest hint to drive him mad with want.

She is completely golden, in the candlelight, and he remembers exactly how she looked that night in the tavern. He remembers the jealousy (not of his own past self, not quite) that he felt and the flash of desire that one day she might respond to him so openly, for real.

Killian's hand strokes through her hair, down her arm, and back up to her hair where it remains, tangling softly. She loves the way he touches her, reverently, as if she is infinitely precious to him. But sometimes she also worries that he is so gentle because he's afraid that one day, if he presses too hard, she'll leave. She hates that she has somehow created this fear within him. She knows that she pushed so hard, before their adventure, and that she pushed for so long that he had almost given up hope. (She remembers his eyes boring into hers, asking do you even care? She wants to cry that he had to ask. She wants to shake her past self for making another person feel as lost as she once felt.)

She doesn't know the right words to say, the exact phrase that could erase this caution, so she does what she knows best. She takes action, letting him know exactly how much she can take with her body. She leans in to nuzzle his neck, until her lips reach his skin. He lets out a soft grunt of surprise as she grazes her lips against his skin, teeth slightly pressing, until she reaches the lobe of his ear and nips hard enough that he jolts with surprise and the fingers sliding through her hair tighten, grasping.

With the momentum gained, her head falls back, and the sharpness of it flows through her, making her burn. At her low groan, his head snaps to face hers, curiosity written across his features. She maintains eye contact while neither of them moves. Finally, he tests her response with another tug, this time even stronger, more deliberate. She groans again, as the movement causes her body to tingle with increased awareness. His eyes, remain on hers as he leans in for a quick kiss before he says, "You like that, eh?"

She answers him with a kiss of her own, lingering, tasting the cocoa on his lips, and she feels him smile. He releases her hair briefly and shifts his hand to the hook. He's about to detach it from his brace when she places her hand on his wrist.

"Keep it on."

Which is the exact moment that her cell phone rings, cutting through the tension. He arches a brow at her when she makes an exasperated noise and mutters, "Damn storm."

Her body quickly goes back into sheriff mode as she leans over to grab her phone, "It's Regina calling. I have to take this." Not five minutes later, the conversation is over and she tells him that she has to meet Regina over at the power plant.

She has her boots on and she's slipping her arms into her jacket when she feels the cool metal of his hook at her wrist, as he drags her back towards him. She tumbles onto the bed as he pulls her down and catches her lips with his, tongues tangling and teeth crashing for what feels like hours before he lets her go.

"We'll finish this conversation later, yeah?" He says, not really asking her.

"Oh yeah."


End file.
